Awkward dating moments. Almost everyone has had them.

I went on one first date with a guy who, when I went in to hug him goodbye, shook my hand instead. This was a guy who seemed totally excited about the date beforehand and even brought his work portfolio to show me what he did for a living.

Afterward, he sent me a text: “Sorry to sound like a quality assurance rep, but I have a feeling I didn’t do so well. Can you tell me where I went wrong?”

“I went in to hug you. Me, the girl! And you gave me your hand.”

“Dang! I knew I messed that up. You smelled so good too.”

Yeah. First impressions mean a lot. He was nice, but we didn’t go on a second date.

I have worse tales, but I prefer to hear (and tell) other people’s.

My partner in dating crime, Angie, went on three dates with a guy we called “No Sparks Bob.” He cried on their first date. Seriously. She thought, Maybe he’s feeling vulnerable because he had lost his dad. Touching.

They had two more dates.

“We were flirtatious, and I was trying to see if we could build a rapport and trust together before we were hooking up,” she said.

At the end of the third date, he told her there were “no sparks” between them.

“It is possible he simply didn’t like me. … But the three dates part is what makes me think he was like, ‘OK, this girl is never gonna give it up.’ But see, the funny part is, I was going to invite him up to my place at the end of the third date.”

Because of the six degrees of separation in KC, she met a friend of his who confirmed that No Sparks Bob was all about getting laid. The crying thing was a trick.

The worst part of the whole thing for Angie? She left her Korma Sutra leftovers in his car on their last date.

The only silver lining. Gone.

I was hungry for more, so I started asking around.

KC dater No. 1 tells me:

“I met the guy at a bar and grill for dinner. My first impression was he seems nice and personable. Fifteen minutes into the date, he starts flirting with the waitress and has her sit down with us while they carry on a conversation for 10 minutes. When she left, I asked if he knew her and my thinking is if he did I would understand the conversation. His reply was, ‘No, I don’t know her, but my friend knows her.’ OK then, that cleared that one right up. We order food and drinks and while waiting he asked me to guess the size of his ... Now, what in the world made a guy think it was okay to ask a girl that question on a first date?”

And I thought I was the queen of inappropriate questions on first dates.

I’m sure I’ve provided guys with some “Let me tell you about this weirdo girl” fodder.

So here’s one from a guy’s point of view.

KC dater No. 2 writes:

“I met a girl on a dating Web site, and we exchanged a few e-mails and a few pictures. We met at Martini Corner … she must have sent me pictures from like 15 years ago and she was real old. I had a few drinks, proceeded to listen to horror stories of her ex cooking meth, getting busted, etc. Gave me the heebie jeebies. I wanted to run from the start, but did really want a cocktail. The whole thing lasted about two hours. I’m 27 and good looking, but have a soft side, maybe that’s why I stayed for a bit of conversation. … No more dating Web sites for me. I’ll stick to going out with no expectations and being myself having a good time. I think that’s the best way to find a hookup.”

I can’t make this stuff up.

But KC dater No. 3’s story made me laugh the most:

“Back when I was a naive college student, I invited a much-lusted-after young Mick Jagger look-alike to a house party my roommate and I were hosting. All seemed to be going well, until Mick and my roommate disappeared, not to be seen again until morning when they both walked out of her bedroom … yes, he knew, and yes, she knew I was into him. The most horrific part of it though was that my roommate, who was also my closest friend, dumped me and the guy asked me out.

“And I’m sure we all have one of these, the ‘We’re on a first date, he’s a doorman at the Hurricane so this isn’t going anywhere, but we should have sex’ sex. That leads nowhere because once you tell him to put on a condom he can’t keep it up, sleeps to sober up and then leaves with a flash in the morning and pretends like he’s never seen you the next time you show him your ID at the door. … Thank God.

“Or the ultra romantic, ‘I’m calling in sick to work tomorrow because he doesn’t work, is adorable and wants to go ice skating at 1 in the afternoon, oh and also, this isn’t a date and he’s gay.’ ”